the Closure & the AwakeningThe first draft of the new year 2007 will be a long one. But I'd like to take a look back. Take a look at the year 2006; review myself, before I venture into the 17th year of my life.
Years ago, I've this concept that many a times, we (or maybe, just me) would always come to a point in life when I stop in my tracks, take a few sips of water and judge my surroundings. And looking at the map in hand, I would trace my previous steps and slapped my forehead
. I would then realise an easier alternative upfront beats the one through the thorns I had chosen hands down. Alas, I should have taken that way. And the next time, you would find me looking up ahead first, learning from my wrong decisions in the past. I would grin and think.
Hey man, you've grown smarter. Mature. Independent. Look at you.As I walked for fifteen years, I always believe in my heart that every year, I've grown in my way of thinking and the way I place my priorities and choices in life are much more mature. But for the sixteenth year running, things were a little different.
The year 2006 was in a word, tough, for me. There were the usual ingredients that made the perfect recipe: Poor results, lacking of finances, family problems, dry spiritual periods, as well as the occasional heartaches. But as I've been lamenting for so often now, you'd probably get tired of reading all the shit I've been going though (and sometimes, not understanding a thing), shake your head and exclaim, " The guy is one heck of a depression case. " But if you really must know, I've been struggling in many more dark secrets never been revealed. Maybe that's human. That's the way we are. If you spent a little more time thinking, the person that you think you know so well could actually be a stranger to you. We are never who we actually are as we appear. Even if you insist you are you, there would be still some sort of deception unknown to yourself kept hidden, buried. That's the way things are, and I know that. And I know too, myself all too well. But I've never been able to rise above the choppy waters. I've just been digging and digging and digging. Digging a grave of my own in the year 2006.
I've grown more mature in 2006.I'd be lying if I said that.
So as I continue walking, I'd come across a few travelers on the same road as me. We would chat about anything under the sun, laugh merrily, and raise beer bottles in the moonlight. But I was puzzled. These travelers would disappear mysteriously. Sometimes in the morning, sometimes at night. There would even be moments when I was droning on and on when I turned around, only to realise I'm the only living person in sight. But soon, I got used to it.
On other occasions, I'd stop by the roadside, plucking the wild roses of all sorts. The red ones, blues ones, even those that are as black as night, which are all the more alluring. But for one reason or another, from the rising dawn of the year to the falling dusk when the snow stopped falling, none of these roses were alive. Their petals wilted and peeled slowly but surely, and I'd be left with bloodied hands that so stubbornly held onto the thorned stem.
There were sticks and stones. Holes too. Not that it wasn't common for the first fifteen years. But there seemed to be twice the number, and of a size doubled in comparison. It was inevitable to trip over once or twice, and even harder to avoid the holes. So I tripped and fell multiple times. I was so bruised, so tattered.
It was as if some sinister force was at work, stealing the travelers from behind, burning the roses, and setting the various deadly traps along the way.
There was a voice. Sometimes in the back of my head, the other times an echo behind the hills. Someone was there, but it wasn't dark or anything like that. It was.. pure. And warm. I've heard it a couple of time in the past. But it was not like before, nothing was. It was so much softer this time. So faint that if you didn't strain your ears, you'd think you were hallucinating.
But for every start, there will be an end. In good time, the perilous journey would be over. And it is. A bell chimed. Fireworks exploded in the sky and cheers erupted. Happy new year! Happy new year! Men tossed their hats in the air, and women, well, they just screamed and yelled their heads off. And everyone was happy.
The towering clock in Times Square strikes twelve. A voice booms.
" Round 16 is over, will the contestant please make his way to Round 17? "
For me, I'm a happy boy. 2006 is finally over and the dust has settled. No two years would be the same and many people around me have been saying. " Hey boy, be more positive, look on the bright side of life ". ( Nike advertisement comes to mind ) Although no one would or could ever know my other dark side, I sincerely wish that 2007 would be a good year. I'll try to better to everyone, be more outgoing, or even open up more. But the future holds a secret we never know, and try as we might, we never know what would be coming up.
Thank you all, for the year 2006.
For the sweet, the sour and the bitter.
Happy New Year.
Adore the Beautiful HauntingSo now. Settle back as the music play. A deflection in the wave, a slight ripple. Stir, and the calypso beat comes on slowly, the strings hum and vibrate. Let them be known, let the your soul scream, the ghost of you rip out. Settle as the breathing increase. Settle.. settle. And the riff plays a harmonic melody in the air, hanging in between your ears. Slowly.. slowly, and the tension dies down. And your soul calms, and you retreat back.
You sit and wonder how long this is ever going to last. The post-drug effect drums heavily. You're clinging on, stuggling. You see dots dancing. Give up.. give up. Let go.. The ghost moans, the grived and cursed wail bouncing back to you off the walls. You swing your arms wildly. You've lost control, you've lost control.
Stagger out. You peek over the cliff of decisions. Faces. Faces of your beloved. The loved ones. The lost. You see the movie play out, so fantasy-like. So.. surreal. You reach out. You find yourself falling. Falling. Maniac laughter. You wonder who it belongs to. You? The haunting ghost? Or them, the faces? But you do not have the answer. You scream.
The wind whistle in your ears. You find your body erasing itself, dissolving as you fall through the air. Is this the digital world? You've just been deleted. Wiped away. Where are you. Where are you.
You look around. This place. Where is it? Cold fear grips you. Your brain processes the surroundings. This place..
It's Earth. You stand alone. Fall to your knees. And weep. Weeping.. weeping as time passes you by.
Merry Christmas. (:Jingling her keys, she swung open her front gate and stepped out into the cold, frosty night. Strolling down the pavement, she passed by a few houses, and snowmen with carroty noses waved at her with their stolid looking branches hands. A snow bunny scurried across the road. Walking on, carols filled the air, the high-pitched chorus providing the perfect ambience to the festive season. Fir trees stood in the yards of many a house, while from the chimney rose the smell of burning firewood. She looked up without really knowing why. Tiny flakes of snow danced in the air. It was a beautiful sight, which never could be compared to those scenarios caught and plastered behind postcards. A smile spread across her face. It was the Christmas joy. She moved on, and her face told of one in deep thought, yet nothing was running through her mind at all. A rickety sound from a distance switched her attention back on. A sleigh drawn by a dozen reindeers drifted into sight and landed on a nearby house, and a chubby man with snow-white beard clambered out of the snowsled, a red bag filled to the brim with delicate wrapping of gifts slung over his broad shoulders. She smiled again.
A few minutes later, she reached her destination. Stepping into the doorway, she caught a whiff of roasted turkey. Her hand found its way to the doorbell. The door opened, mistletoes dangled from above and candlelights glowed dimly in the background. She looked deep into his eyes. A moment frozen in time, their lips touched.
---
Love songs find their usual way back into my heart on this Christmas night that nears its magical end. I've a thought, a dream, of having to spend a white Christmas ten years from now with a family of my own. In a cabin, flames licking up from the firestove, children surrounding me, their bedtime storyteller. And soon, the lights in the living rooms dim as they make their way up to their beds, tired but happy. And you can see a car entering the woods, up a winding road and leading to a cliff.
We could sit there, yes, you and me. And we could watch as the city lights beneath us flicker out one by one.
I hope this old train breaks down,Then I could take a walk around.And see what there is to see,And time is just a melody.The jade monster lumbered across the vast, empty desert. As if in a globe of sand being shaken once, twice and for all eternity, a sandstorm blew across the wasteland. The continous beating of particles against the beast peeled his flesh away step by step, in a bid to demolish the gigantic being, to strip him to his bares bones, and eventually, nothingless.
Spare a thought for Frankenstein, spare his feelings, spare them words.
The girl in the white labcoat waved frantically at the mob surrounding the green hulk towering behind her. "No, he means no harm to us! He.. " She stopped in her tracks as a stone flew past her shoulder and strike the creature she was trying to shield. Before she could yell out, scream out, or even utter a single word, sticks, bricks, everything found lying on the streets made their way in her direction, finding their target in the mammoth hulk.
The creature cowered for a few moments. But they were hurting her, hell, they were hurting
him. He knew he could strike out, he knew all it needed was a swipe of his gigiantic palm, and they would be swatted away like flies. But he couldn't do it, something in him didn't want him to, that something that had kept those herculean hands to himself all this while.
He grabbed the woman by the waist, and leaped. Into the sky, towards the hills.
Inspired by: Frankenstein, The Hulk, Van Helsing.
Go on, try figuring that out. It isn't that hard to.
If you hadn't realise, words do kill.
And judging by the shards of broken friendships around me, it'd be a wonder to miss that out.
A peek out of the burrow, and a dozen old friends out for a single night. Beyond words, just gratitude that sometimes I wonder where I'd be, where this play would be without them as the backstage crew behind. With all else forgotten and thrown to the wind, the past remained a place of escape, whilst smiling back at those silly 'ol days.
It's a little late but yes, I caught Spiderman 2 today. Which in my opinion, is a very wrong decision, with the show stirring up emotions of all kinds in me.
It's also more of what they call.. Tears-invoking.
If you question why, you should be an avid reader of the Spidey series to understand what our friendly neighbourhood Spiderman had to go through.
Which brings me to the point. It's tough enough being a comic character, what more an alive, breathing human experiencing cosmic reactions from all directions. Besides, I'm no Spiderman.
I'm tired, and I lack the inspiration to write. And to answer some questions about recent posts, they're part of my ' training ' as I try to find my way past the real world to the fiction. You could fish around those words too, who knows, there's a chance you may strike gold as you venture deeper into my world.
I'll continue another time, perhaps tomorrow.
Beyond the door there's peace I'm sure,And I know there'll be no more tears in heaven.A feral wolf guarding the female wolf with silk-like fur, parading the snow covered ground. A low growl emerging from behind those canine teeth, a warning sign so clear, so deadly. But a howl rose above the stinging wind, and reality sinks in. The wolf wimpered bitterly, and pawed the snow reluctantly. Then, turning its back, it traced its steps slowly back to its nest.
You could see the eyes of the proud grey wolf, a shadowed grey pair that gleamed in the blue moonlight, a silvery drop of tear fizzling in the snow. Its sleek and beautiful body disappearing into the horizon, and when it would ever return remained a mystery left uncovered.
So silently, the warmth of love burns within.
Beneath the rafters the angels sing,Spinning violence and playing with my heart.Some have seen rainbows after dark clouds, but have any seen dark clouds behind rainbows, waiting to erupt? What is this place, where skies and the seas exchange places at the slight snap of fingers. Have you heard your own words, your own mind, your own heart? The desires to please and to care morph into bricks that built the stone-cold bridge cemented between two banks of a river.
As always, life never fails to twist at the very last moment, and twist it did, for it always has an edge over you. Two minutes ago, a similar phonecall, (this time not too much as that of an angel's), brought news that crumbled my world into tiny pieces. Try as I might, dear 'ol fate interrupted, not surprisingly but still shocking enough to turn this place into an ugly grey. Like a shagged, starved animal that chanced upon a meat, who could blame it when it pounced in a lightning quick movement, only for it to disappear under its paw mysteriously. The agony prolonged, the seemingly existence of food was but only a hallucination. Or is it so?
The moment the dices were flinged onto the board, the quest for the finishing line gets further as you move your game piece up every block. Like I say, sticks and stones break just my bones, but twists and turns do break this soul.
... a stone, a leaf, an unfound door; of a leaf, a stone, a door. And of all the forgotten faces.
Naked and alone we came into exile. In her dark womb, we did not know our mother's face; from the prison of her flesh have we come into the unspeakable and incommunicable prison of this earth.
Which of us has known his brother? Which of us has looked into his father's heart? Which of us has not remained forever prison-pent? Which of us is not forever a stranger and alone?
... O lost, and by the wind grieved, ghost, come back again.Thomas Wolfe
Look Homeward, Angel
My phone vibrations brought about an unexpected call from heaven, an ordinary voice resembled an angel's voice, bringing home the good news that what was desired had been clinched and it couldn't have come at a better time. And for a single moment, this place isn't all that dark and cold and lonely after all.
But one moment in time isn't enough to melt the solid ice dagger that had pierced that rose red, beautiful heart. A sudden rise of temperature, it beated; but the icy wind that howled in the far distance calmed all that down. And it remained, like before, warm blood froze into icicles of life.
Sunday morning rain is falling,Steal some covers share some skin.Clouds are shrouding us in moments unforgettable,You twist to fit the mould that I am in.The days crawled by, slowly but surely, and despite it, like a speeding bullet, Christmas is knocking our front doors yet again. So hello Mr Santa Claus, park those reindeers up on top of the roof, the snow's cleared for them and you may come in for a mug of hot chocolate.
Lady Luck was here today, and hardly believable when Cafe Cartel's manager gave my job prospects a boost by claiming I stand a high chance. But who knows, maybe Fate's playing an early April Fool (abeit a 'lil too early) joke on me. Lonliness's been my best buddy for a while now, and he's pretty much stuck on me unless he decides to pack himself into a box and send himself to the Amzaon where the sun shines through canopies of rainforests, while snow falls on our sunny island. Now, how's that for a X'mas gift?
I had an interesting day today. Or you can say the best company in a long, long while, haha. Well, I am happy partly because my hopes are raised, and partly because I had company, a smile and a sunny day. Life's been cruel lately, where everything seemed in place but you know in your heart that they're not, where gaping holes beckon to be filled up and where this place's been thrash-filled to the brim with my non-existent problems.
That someday it'll lead me back to you.That someday it'll lead me back to you.
Fight the fight alone,
When the world is full of victims.
Dims a fading light,
In our souls."How you doing, my friend? Oh hey there, SSDD. How 'bout you?"
"Right back atcha. SSDD."
How right that phrase is, how absolutely right. And here I was searching for a way to describe my holidays, and there you have it. SSDD.
Been reading this book titled "Dreamcatcher" and I don't know how to describe it, cause there'd be a million ways to. So I'll skip the description part, and when I do finish the book, I'll just give it a rating of some sort. One thing about the book would be that phrase you've got up there, something which is currently very applicable.
I caught Step Up with my old friends on Monday, namely those from my ex-primary school. It's still a wonder that we keep in touch, much less go out together still and I'm glad of it.
Step Up is a wonderful movie, surreal and yet realistic. Like a dream motioned together in the real world, it was what I had dared dream of a few months back. It'd be beautiful to choreograph dance steps together with your life partner, performing together with him/her on life biggest stage. I know, yeah, imagine me dancing and you'd probably laugh your ass off but I really thought of trying to pick up this form of art. Because of a certain someone, I had dreamt, and because of a certain someone, this dream, it was short-lived.
So anyway, Step Up was worth the seven bucks I paid for it. Being the rock/metal-hungry guy that I am, hip-hop appealed to me for once. Maybe it's the blues setting in, so I'll take whatever that comes at me. I really like Tyler Gage alot, and I love his hometown, where you have all the alleys and backyard courts. It's sort of the life I want to live right now (besides the cabin in the woods), where life is lonesome and there's just one good buddy of yours and you're shooting hoops all day long. And like a dream come true, you're able to fulfill doing what you're good at and poof!, the girl of your life appears just like that, the end, curtains down, round of applause.
Oh, by the way,
Happy Birthday, Junle.
Went looking for jobs in three places today and with the cursed luck that had been bugging me this few weeks, it was no surprise I ended with more application forms and zilch calls. Tomorrow, I'm going to once again drag myself out the house to look for dumb jobs that never do exist, for whatever reason, beats me too.
Yeah man. Same shit, different day.
Replies to tags:
Fiona: Hey there, I do hope you come back soon even though you won't see this. Haha, I badly need to talk to you.
Deborah: Hey hello. So I guess communication's cut for the rest of december? Aww. ):
Sarah: Oh, now I know. By the way, which Sarah are you?
So what's the matter with you?Sing me something new.Don't you know the cold and wind and rain don't know.They only seem to come and go away.Happy Birthday, Liwen! (:
I know you have many picks, but that one is different. It's a magic pick! (: Look at it on the darkest nights when you feel sad and you'll see how it stands out. Haha, my gift is nothing much but it came from the heart. Stay small and happy!
Hello world. I have to clarify something, my world is getting way too boring for my comfort and- Hold on.
Okay back. For some reason or another, fireworks appeared in the sky at 8.44 p.m near redhill road. I love fireworks, especially those that linger in the skies and fall down like golden rain droplets. (:
Like I was saying, life's getting too uninteresting. I need some heart-pumping action, like escaping from monstous teachers and venturing into the lions' dens. And I'm derived of a irreplaceable pleasure in life- songs. ): Being the very paranoid guy that I am, I'm afraid that the police would come a-knocking if I got tempted into downloading the many songs that I need now. Therefore, I want to conclude that I'm a very nice and law-abiding boy, but I'm dying soon, so someone call the hospital quick.
Picked up a new book at the library yesterday. It's been very long since I've actually immerse myself in a book and I've finally got the chance to do so now, in the holidays. I was thinking, one day, I could become a writer if I couldn't make it as a journalist. Haha, but it's far-fetched, isn't it? Imagine < Insert Title >, Author: Yours truly. Pretty weird, huh? How many Singapore writers made it out there anyway?
I'm glad that Manchester United has gotten Henrik Larrson on loan. He's a really great professional, and he is very similar to Dennis Bergkamp in my opinion, and even Alan Shearer. I just hope some of his experience rubs off on the younger players. I cannot wait for the January transfer window, but that would mean school would have already begun and I'm not too excited about that.
Everyone should have prom and graduation nights. It is the time when people are the most pretty and when the inner self of everyone shines out. I've seen so many pictures of different people from different schools, and one thing that I find in common is that everyone looks simply breath-taking. (: I can't wait for my own graduation night, two years down the road, but there's a tinge of regret that I'm unable to savour the taste of a night out, looking at the red moon and swirling red wine in sparkling glass.
Stand by me,Nobody knows the way it's gonna be.Loneliness knows me by name. The truth speaks for itself.
